Emrys: The King of Sorcerers
by MerlinEmrys2016
Summary: Uther has been hunting Emrys for years. When Emrys is finally brought to Camelot, Uther would find that there are consequences to every action. And he will not only find that killing Emrys might prove to be difficult, but it also might bring Camelot and her allies to her knees. Merthur, slash, BAMF!Merlin DruidKing!Merlin
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So here is an idea that has just been floating around in my head. I don't know if I'm gonna leave it a one-shot or continue it. If I continue it, it will end up being more action filled. **

**Here's the summary right now:**

**Uther tries, in vain, to find and kill Emrys. Emrys isn't having it. **

**Here's the summary if it were to be a continued work:**

**Uther has been hunting Emrys for years. When Emrys is finally brought to Camelot, Uther would find that there are consequences to every action. And he will not only find that killing Emrys might prove to be difficult, but it also might bring Camelot and her allies to her knees. Merthur, slash, BAMF!Merlin DruidKing!Merlin**

**So should I continue it or not? Let me know Please!**

* * *

It really was just an ordinary day, nothing too extraordinary, when the messenger brought, well, the message.

"Sire!"

Uther looked up in complete annoyance because really the boy had just barged into the meeting without a single knock or anything. Arthur raised an eyebrow, sitting at his father's right hand. The dukes and various other important people all paused in their discussion to watch the young man, who looked no older than fifteen, stumble over his words.

"There's been a spotting to the west, sire! Less than an hour ago."

Uther seemed confused for a second, his eyebrows scrunching together, but then realization dawned on him. He stood suddenly to address the court, "Leave us. Boy, send word for Leon and Gaius."

Arthur was still confused and as soon as the other men had left and the messenger had sent for Leon and Gaius, he stood, "Father?"

"Arthur."

Arthur waited, but his father said nothing else.

"Sire?" It was Gaius, followed closely by Leon, his eyebrow never failing to show skepticism.

"Gaius!" Uther, who had just been facing the window to the far left wall, turned and moved quickly towards him, "Leon! I have just received word that Emrys has been spotted."

Gaius' eyebrow, if possible, shot even farther up. Arthur, still standing off to the left, was thoroughly confused, "Who's Emrys?"

His father paused, briefly closing his eyes to let out a sigh before he turned to face his son. He seemed unsure, "Since the beginning of my reign, it has become known there is a man, under the name of Emrys, that resides somewhere unknown. There have been prophecies about him, that he's the most powerful man to ever live, that he is magic itself. I have spent years trying to hunt him down because of the threat that he poses to Camelot, but he manages to allude me. I do believe that if I were to have this man killed," he looked back at Gaius, who was doing a very good job of not making eye contact, "Magic would be erased from this land."

He looked back at Leon and proceeded to order him to gather ten of his best man and ride out west to find and kill Emrys, "Bring him to me. If he refuses, kill him," Leon nodded and fled, "If I do not manage to defeat Emrys in my time, it will be your responsibility to do so. There can be no peace until that man is destroyed."

* * *

Later, when Arthur was alone with Gaius, he asked him again, "Who is Emrys? Why does my father fear him?"

Gaius glanced up at him, "Emrys is the druid king and consequently the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk this earth."

"Has he attacked Camelot before?"

"No, but he could. And that is what your father fears. Some say this sorcerer can win a war with just a mere thought."

"That's impossible."

"Not for him. There are rumors that he has the ability to stop your heart just by looking at you. Your father has heard these rumors, of course. A man with that much power is a threat to this kingdom. Uther will stop at nothing to see him dead."

* * *

Ten of Leon's best men are sent out to the west.

They are gone a week.

And then suddenly, one day they're on the training grounds with Arthur, chatting with one another and waiting instruction. Arthur takes one look at them and sends them to Uther.

"How long have you been back? Have you brought Emrys to me?" Uther says, annoyed, because they have the decency to look confused.

"Emrys, sire?" Leon asks, an eyebrow raised at the same time someone says, "We never left, sire?"

Uther has them sent to Gaius to check for a mental affliction.

Gaius meets with Arthur and Uther later. He looks downright flabbergasted, "They don't remember anything, sire."

Uther looks miffed, "What? How is that possible?"

"The only conclusion I can come to is that Emrys wiped their memory, to protect himself."

Emrys must be a powerful man to wipe the memory of ten men.

* * *

Uther sends another party.

They're back in two days. Arthur finds them in the tavern. They don't remember anything.

* * *

Uther tries again.

Arthur watches them ride out, watches them get to the end of the draw bridge and then suddenly, they turn around and ride back, greeting him cheerily.

* * *

Uther basically sends an entire army out west. They ride past the drawbridge so Arthur considers that a success.

He goes hunting two days later, just out of boredom, and finds an entire army camped out in the woods, looking frazzled, but nevertheless enjoying their campfire. 

* * *

Uther hires the best assassin in the land of Camelot and sends him, alone.

Four days later, Arthur and Uther are holding a meeting discussing taxes when suddenly the assassin is just there, lying in the middle of the table, unconscious, a note taped to his leather vest.

Uther rips it off angrily and reads it. He lets out an angry groan, crumbles it and throws it on to the assassin's back, "See him to Gaius."

He storms out.

Arthur picks up the note, soothes it out and reads it.

_Uther –_

_Almost. It was a near miss, so congratulations on your efforts. I would appreciate it though if you could kindly stop wasting my time._

_Thank you._

_With love,  
__Emrys_

_P.S. Your assassin blew out my window. I have attached the bill. We'll figure out a payment method soon._

* * *

**REVIEW. Tell me if I should continue! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: let me know what you think please :))) **

* * *

_Chapter 2_

It turns out that Emrys has a bit of a sense of humor, Arthur has decided, based on the way that he keeps messing with his father's head. He also has a lot of guts since he has chosen to mess with Camelot's most feared leader.

Emrys continues to return Uther's knights and occasionally, they bring back notes with them. One even brought back an empty coin purse with a note demanding that it be filled with twelve gold and sent back with the next batch of soldiers so that Emrys could replace his blown out window.

"Sire."

Arthur looks up from the documents at his desk to the servant at his door. He smiles, gesturing her in because it's Gwen and he's always liked her, always liked her a little too much actually, "Guinevere, come in."

"Thank you, sire," she's wearing the blue and white dress she's worn for years now and she smoothes her hands over the wrinkles, "I actually was just bringing news about Emrys."

Finding Emrys had originally been a secret quest, only for the ears of the highest of ranks, but maids had been gossiping and soon news had spread to the lower town. Now, it even seemed to be a local joke about how Uther's knights kept returning empty-handed.

"No success, I gather?" Arthur leaned back in his chair and dropped his pen on to the documents.

"No, sire. They've returned again," And there's a hint of a smile behind her eyes. She does not fear sorcery as he does and she does not fear Emrys as his father does.

Arthur groans, standing to move towards the window with his back to Gwen, "My father is going mad. Emrys can't be caught and my father can't let it go."

Gwen is silent.

He turns to look at her over his shoulder, "What are you thinking?"

She looks nervous, blushes in the way she used to after he had pulled away from a kiss, back when they were young and in love and Arthur didn't have so many responsibilities, "Well, Emrys is anything but stupid, Arthur, that much has been made clear" and she's adopted the tone she used to use back when they were much closer, "He knows your father intends to kill him. Of course he won't let your father close. Would you?"

"What are you saying, Gwen?"

"Morgana and I have been talking," he laughs at that and she stops short, but really? Morgana is not one to involve in quests such as these, she is too quick to love, too quick to become emotionally invested. Gwen continues on anyway, "We think you should try a different approach."

He quirks an eyebrow.

"Maybe you should go. Just to talk with him. To see if he really intends to harm Camelot."

And it's really not a horrible idea. Of course, Arthur isn't thinking along the same lines as Gwen. He's thinking he'll go and talk to Emrys, convince Emrys that his father just wants to talk and then bring him back to Camelot to present him to his father, where his father would see him burned at the pyre.

He tells Uther as much.

Uther watches him steadily the whole time and when he's done, he's silent for a second. He turns towards Gaius, who seems to be listening intently, "What do you say, Gaius? Is it too dangerous?"

Gaius turns to him, "In all fairness, sire, Emrys has not actually killed any of your men. At very worst, we risk Arthur returning with no memory of this conversation, but that is all."

"And what if this was his intentions all along? To have my sole heir sent to him? What if he plans to kill Arthur? We have no idea what he is capable of."

Arthur hadn't even thought of that, but Uther is a smart man. Gaius seems to weigh this option for a second before he shakes his head, "Emrys is a druid. The druids are peaceful people, my lord. I do not believe Emrys to be of a threat."

"Thank you, Gaius. Arthur, take Leon and two of your best knights. You will ride out at dawn."

Arthur bows and makes to leave before Gaius speaks, "Sire, if I may be so bold, I do believe bringing Emrys here does risk danger to Camelot."

"So you do believe this Emrys to be a threat?"

Gaius shakes his head, "No, not Emrys. The others, my lord. The druids, and the sorcerers, they view Emrys as royalty, as a god in flesh. They might attack Camelot if they knew that their king was in danger."

Uther laughs, "Nonsense. As soon as he's within Camelot's walls, he will be beheaded. Then all of magic will cease to exist and they will no longer be a worry of ours. They will be powerless and Camelot will reign peacefully."

No more is said at that meeting, though Arthur can tell Gaius has more to say. Gaius is a smart man though and he knows his father well enough to know when to cease from speaking.

Before Arthur heads out, he goes to Gaius and asks him about Emrys. He wants to know what he's getting himself into. Gaius tells him of a man more powerful than any before him or after him, a man meant to unite the lands of Albion. He tells him of how the five kingdoms sought to make him an ally and use him to make Albion their own. He tells him of how the kingdoms hunted him for years, just to find no such man had been born yet. And when Arthur was two, reports had been brought to Camelot of a boy, just a toddler, who had been able to bend trees and rivers to his will.

And when Arthur had stood to leave, Gaius had told him to be careful, that Emrys' power knew no limits.

With that, Arthur rode out towards the west. He took with him Leon and two other knights, Sir Vidor and Sir Geraint. They had reports of Emrys residing just beyond the mountains of Caerleon. Arthur wasn't particularly worried about King Caerleon or Queen Annis, but he figured it was better to play safe and they stuck to the tree lines.

They camped out in the valley, just a few miles short of where Emrys had been seen, but night was falling quickly and Arthur figured they would look friendlier if they approached in daylight. None of the knights spoke much and Arthur was fine with that. At the top of the mountain, he spotted a small cabin, a light flickering in the window.

Arthur's eyes narrowed. The description fit everything the messengers had said. And it was where they were heading. It could very well be Emrys' house.

And just as he figured it out, the light in the window went out and the house disappeared into the night.

Not a coincidence if you asked Arthur. He was just surprised they had gotten this far without turning around or having their memory wiped.

They rode out again at sunrise.

There was nothing particularly extraordinary about the cabin. It was on a flat plain towards the top of the mountain, with wild grass surrounding it and a few, poorly planted bushes and flowers surrounding the base of the house. A small creek ran down along the side of it and tampered off into a pond a few yards away from the house. The house itself was simple, logs stacked on logs and a plain roof overhanging it. All the windows were open, and there was a small plant on each window sill. It was…homey.

The door was wide open too.

And standing in the doorway, leaning against it, was a tall, dark haired man. He was ruggedly attractive, with short, wavy black hair and stubble growing along his chin. He wore all black and was smiling easily at them.

They stopped their horses up short, a few yards away from the cabin.

The man watched them and then pushed himself off the doorway and walked towards them. Arthur swung door from his horse, hand on his sword. If Emrys was going to attack, Arthur knew he stood very little chance, but he might as well go down fighting.

"Arthur Pendragon?" The man asked, stopping a few feet away from Arthur.

Arthur nodded. Leon and the other knights dismounted behind him.

"Emrys is expecting you."

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows, "You're not Emrys?"

"No, no. My name is Lancelot," He held out his black gloved hand. Arthur shook it and the man smiled at him, "I'm just a good friend."

"Friend." Arthur repeated. Because for some reason he never thought Emrys would have friends or relationships. He always pictured him a recluse.

Lancelot gestured for him to follow. He led them into the entryway and it turned out the whole house was misleading on the outside. Inside the doorway was just a decent sized, wooden floored room. It was plain, poorly decorated, with a single table and chair over in the far corner. But off to the left, there were stairs leading into a basement. Lancelot led them down the stairs and Arthur stopped short at the bottom.

Because it was beautiful. He never thought he'd describe sorcery as beautiful, but this was like nothing he'd ever seen.

On the bottom of the stairs, there was an archway. The archway had a thin layer of moving color, white on one side and red on the other, almost like a waterfall rushing up both sides of the wall and joining at the top of the archway to form a brilliant, tiny dragon, magical wings flapping to its own accord, stuck hovering in one spot. The ground was made of thin wood and the walls were plain stone, but red and gold magic tendrils swirled through the air, curling around each other like snakes and bouncing off the walls.

There were a few closed doors, leading to different rooms, but in the center of the room was a large stone table with six chairs pulled around it. There were two men sitting, one facing away from him, and the other looking right at him.

The one looking at him wasn't smiling. In fact, he was glaring. His short brown hair barely covered his chubby face and he was wearing farmer's clothes. One of the gold tendrils swirled out of the air and wrapped around his arm and the glare lessened.

"Emrys?" Arthur said, approaching the table. The short haired man watched him before he let out a laugh.

Lancelot sat down beside the man facing away from Arthur. He turned over his shoulder to look at Arthur and gestured to the chair at the head of the table, "Almost. You can sit down."

Arthur sunk into the chair, his knights on either side. The man that still hadn't faced him was whispering to Lancelot, his black head turned away from him.

So that must mean the black haired one, by Lancelot, wearing a stupid brown cloak from what he could see, must be Emrys.

Arthur opened his mouth to talk, but the man, still facing away, said, "Arthur Pendragon."

It wasn't a question.

"Did your father send his payments?"

Lancelot laughed and so did Will. Good to know they had fun with it. Arthur opened his mouth to talk, but the man shook his head, turning to face the man across the table from him.

"Shame. He still owes me then."

His side profile was angular, sharp. His cheekbones were ridiculously visible, his black hair grown long enough to cover his slightly large ears, but his eyes were still cast down onto the table.

"I came to talk to you. To reach an agreement between my father and you."

The man still didn't look up. Instead he just smiled, almost sadly, "Your father does not want to talk to me. He wants to see me dead. Am I right, Arthur Pendragon?" And with that, he turned his head to look Arthur straight in the eye.

Arthur stopped breathing.

Because the man's eyes were gold.

Not the gold he'd seen in sorcerer's eyes before. Theirs had always been a dark gold, tinted with red and brown, as if the eyes were rejecting the unnatural color spreading through them. His, Emrys', were a bright gold, pure, shining, without any other color besides the black of his pupil. He could almost see the power emitting from him in waves.

Then, just as the fascination faded, the fear and anger set in. "Are you using magic on me?"

Emrys smiled and a brilliant smile it was, stretching from ear to ear and showing a perfect row of white teeth, "No."

"Your eyes…"

Lancelot smiled and sat forward, "His eyes are always that way. I was intimidated by it at first, but you get used to it."

Arthur looked back at Emrys and tried to get past the alien look in his eyes, but found himself staring. Emrys blinked, then smiled and stood, Arthur jumping to his feet, his knights moving with him. Once he was standing, Emrys was actually taller than Arthur himself and of a smaller build, but not at all scrawny.

Emrys shook his head, but he stepped forward. Arthur took a step backwards, "I will return to Camelot with you, with no fight, and will speak to your father, under one condition."

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"You will spend a week with me first. Here. With no weapons."

Well that was a stupid agreement. "And what's the point in that?"

"Your father intends to send me to the chopping block, I am entitled to one more week."

Emrys' gold eyes did not move away from Arthur. As stupid as Arthur thought the agreement was and as much as he didn't believe Emrys, it was the best chance he had to get Emrys to that pyre and eradicate magic once and for all.

He held out his hand and Emrys smiled. "Deal."

* * *

**REVIEW. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Here it is. Thank you so much for the reviews :) hope you enjoy this one! **

**Also do you guys happen to know a BAMF!Merlin story where Merlin disappears and then Camelot is cursed to keep raining so Arthur recruits sorcerers to end the curse. Then Merlin comes back as a raven, and he uses blood magic to wipe out an army? It's driving me insane!**

* * *

DAY 1

So all-in-all, it wasn't too horrible yet if Arthur was being honest with himself. They had been given rooms in the back hallway of the basement and they were (for the most part) magic – free. Emrys had been the ones to lead them to their rooms, show them where everything was, before he scampered off to wherever it was that all-powerful sorcerers went.

When they had gone back to the stone table, they're had been a huge feast, several different meats and fruits, spread across it. Only Lancelot ate with them though. Will was too busy hating life somewhere else and Emrys apparently wouldn't be eating with them very often.

Arthur had decided he liked Lancelot, quite a lot actually and he was still making up his mind about the other two so he didn't mind Lancelot being the only company.

They had gone to bed early that night, tired from the traveling. Arthur normally would take this as a rare occasion to sleep in, but Emrys had other plans.

Which is how he got here, eyes squinting at the man with the fire eyes at the foot of his bed, the sun's rays barely high enough to stream through the window.

"Rise and shine!" And the kid's smile was earth-shattering, but it wasn't enough to keep Arthur from being cranky.

"The hell?" He croaked out as Emrys turned to the wardrobe, held out a hand and one of Arthur's shirts floated over to his bed and folded itself nicely on his bed.

"Alright, so today I was figuring we could walk down to one of the camps and I'll show you around a bit, yeah?" Emrys was apparently still talking, while Arthur blinked at him, "Breakfast is upstairs when you're ready to leave. Please don't take too long."

And with that, the stupid sorcerer strutted straight out of the room.

Arthur sat up in bed, letting the sheets slide back to reveal his naked chest. He scrubbed at his eyes, yawned, and then figured, 'why the hell not' and got dressed. He wore his brown trousers, a blue tunic, and his brown vest. He figured it made him more incognito.

He had just gotten to the top of the stairs when Emrys turned on his heel from where he was leaning against the wall, looking out the window. He took one look at Arthur, smiled, golden eyes alight, "They're still going to recognize you."

Arthur looked down at his shirt and frowned. He hadn't met very many druids and the ones he had met, they were dead, so how would they recognize him.

"Because they're not stupid, Arthur," He pointed to the plates of fruit and cheese, "Now eat up."

"Are you reading my mind?" He said absentmindedly as he went to make himself a plate of food. Leon was sitting in the far corner of the room with Lancelot, chatting.

He wasn't expecting to get an answer. It had been kind of rhetorical because no one was capable of reading someone else's thoughts.

"Yeah. No offence, but it's really easy too."

Arthur stopped mid-grab for an apple and turned to Emrys, who just raised an eyebrow. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe just to ask how the hell he was capable of doing that, but then he remembered. Instead he settled on, "You look different today."

And it was true, he did. Yesterday he had been wearing an incredibly stupid outfit, brown trousers, blue tunic, brown jacket and a red neckerchief. Today, he almost looked the part of a king. He wore black trousers, a black tunic, and a black jacket that looked remarkably similar to Arthur's red one that was tucked away in the wardrobe.

It made his gold eyes even more obvious. Even more alien.

He shrugged, "I think it gives me a regal look, yeah?"

Arthur nodded, but said nothing more. He sat down at the table with a plate of bread and cheese, apple forgotten. His other knight was sitting across the table from him, Will beside him.

Will was glaring at him. Arthur, at one point, got fed up and dropped the piece of bread onto his half-finished plate. Emrys, who had taken to standing by the wall like a socially-awkward teenage girl (in Arthur's opinion), took a step forward, "Do you have a problem with me, Will?"

Will's eyes narrowed, "What would give you that idea, sire?"

"Well considering you've spent the last five minutes glaring of me and you also just spit out my name…" Arthur muttered. Emrys stood behind him, looking far more concerned than he should be.

"Well geeze, I don't know what you could possibly do to make me hate you. Oh wait, you could kill him. And since that's what you're planning to do…"

"I came to talk. To reach an agreement."

"I'm not stupid. Neither is he. You plan to kill him and everyone else with magic."

"That is not my intentions and even if it was, I fail to see how that concerns you."

Will scoffed, his face red and angry, "Just because I'm not a sorcerer, doesn't mean I will stand for the persecution-"

"Are you ready?" Emrys said and Will's mouth was suddenly shut. Will glared up at Emrys, and his friend gave him an apologetic look.

Arthur nodded, forgetting his plate and standing to his feet. Will glared at him until he was out the door.

Emrys didn't say anything at first, just led him to the horses that were out back. They mounted in silence. Emrys pointed to a path that led down the side of the mountain and Arthur pushed his horse into a trot.

The first few minutes, more like the first forty minutes, was pure, aching, awkward silence. The kind of silence that you would rather run yourself over with a herd of cattle than sit through for longer than five minutes.

"I'm sorry about Will."

Arthur jumped, not expecting the man beside him to talk.

"He's just protective. But he means well. Honestly, he does," Arthur stayed silent. Emrys turned to him in the saddle, his golden eyes bright, "I want you to know I don't hate you."

Arthur cocked his head to look at him, "What?"

"I don't hate you. For what you've done to my people."

Arthur clenched his jaw, "Your 'people' have done just as much to m-"

"I know," Emrys interrupted, "I know and that's why I don't hate you. There's no use in blaming anyone. I just hope you feel the same."

Arthur again tried to say something, but Emrys again interrupted, "Just promise me something."

They had reached the bottom of the mountain and entered the woods. The woods were slowly diminishing, the hills stooping lower and lower, until they had reached some kind of marsh.

"What?"

Emrys turned to look at him yet again, "You'll be open-minded this week. Let me show you my world, before you show me yours."

No matter what, this man was going to the chopping block, so why not give the man what he wanted? Arthur may not believe sorcerers to be good people, but he was anything but cruel. Emrys was still a man with a dying wish and Arthur had to honor that. He nodded.

Emrys smiled.

They had passed over the marsh and as they approached the tree line, Arthur could see the beginnings of a rock formation, possibly a cave. Once he got closer, he saw that yes, it actually was a cave, but it was much more. It was also a camp. The front of the cave had the same pulsating magic that lied within Emrys' basement, the flowing waterfall of blue and red that ran up the sides of the entrance of the cave. A camp, with various tents (Arthur could count at least twenty something) and several campfires, were set out around the cave's opening.

Numerous men and women were scurrying around, laughing, carrying baskets, leading small ponies to the pens in the back, and children danced around their ankles.

They were a few yards away when two children came running out to the marsh and beamed up at them with toothy smiles. Emrys smiled back and swung down from his horse, motioning for Arthur to do the same. The children led their horses away while Emrys and him walked towards the camp.

A few people stopped and bowed, several calling him "Lord Emrys" and a few more saying "Sire" or "my king."

Emrys stopped and talked to about every single person that nodded at him, asking them about their children, or their crops, or life in general.

Arthur rolled his eyes, at this rate nothing was going to get done.

"And this is Arthur Pendragon," Emrys had apparently decided it would be a good idea to introduce the son of the man who had killed half of their people, "He's visiting. Arthur, this is Kara."

The girl look grim and not at all happy to see Arthur, but she held her hand out nevertheless. He took it and bowed to her slightly, kissing her hand as he had been trained to do. She smiled tightly, "Nice to meet you, Prince Arthur."

Emrys, if he noticed anything at all, was delightfully happy, his grin stretching from one ear to the other, "I'm gonna show him around. Is training still going on?"

"Yes, my lord. Mordred is with them now."

"Excellent," And with that, Emrys started off in the direction behind the cave, in the dip of the hills, but not without talking to at least five more people on his way.

When they finally did turn the corner, it led to a small meadow, where the grass seems to have been burned and stopped growing. In the center of the field

In the center of the field were eleven kids, varying in age from eight years old to eighteen. An older man stood in front of them, his hand was extended and in his palm, levitating just off the surface of his hand, was a ball of blue light. He said something, Arthur couldn't hear it, and all the kids extended their hands and a similiar ball of light, varying in colors, appeared in their hands.

"You're training sorcerers..." Arthur whispered, watching as just a little kid, barely older than eight, held his hand out and the orb floated over his head, into the morning sky.

"And your father is training an army," Emrys whispered, "I'm not training them to kill. They're not soldiers. They're learning spells that will help them. Defensive spells, conjuration spells, healing spells, spells that will help them grow crops. They're not trained to kill. That light spell you see, it's to help them if they get lost in the dark."

Arthur just stares. There's a boy in the middle of them. He looks to be the oldest. His hair is curly and his jaw is angular and he's focused now on a plant in front of him, while the instuctor walks around and helps the others. He holds his hand out, chants something and the small plant sprouts upwards and upwards until it now has a green tomato hanging from it.

"That's Mordred. He's the defender of this camp. Every camp has one."

"Why are you telling me this, Emrys?"

Emrys' gold eyes were on him once again, "Because I trust you."

"You don't know me."

Emrys smiled, "No, not yet, but I will."

With that, he headed down into the field. The children stopped at the sight of them and bowed. Emrys smiled at them kindly, bowing his head to them as he passed. "Mordred, a word?"

Mordred nodded and jogged up to him, dropping to his knees. Arthur joined Emrys at his side. Mordred was young, but not as young as Arthur had originally thought. His jaw and his eyes said as much.

"Stand, Mordred." Mordred did so. Emrys turned back to Arthur, "This is Arthur. I want you to show him around the camp."

"Sire?"

"Trust me." And with that, Emrys turned and suddenly, he wasn't there anymore.

"What the hell..." Arthur mumbled. He turned back to the boy with the large blue eyes, "Does he do that alot?"

"Yes and no." Whatever the hell that meant, but the boy was already tugging Arthur up the hill towards the camp again.

He stopped by each tent, explaining their uses, one was a medic tent, one was the blacksmiths, one was the cooks and so on. It was set up much like the military camps Arthur and his army had set up before.

"This isn't our only camp by the way," Mordred was saying, "There's five more, but this is the largest one."

Arthur peered around the camp, "It doesn't look very big."

"That's because most of it is underground," he pointed to the mouth of the cave, "I don't know if I can take you in there though."

"Why?"

"Well we'll see, come with me."

When they got to the front of the cave, Arthur peered up to where the two sides, the red and blue, of the magic joined. He followed down the blue wall, to the floor, where a small white line was drawn across the entrance. Mordred stepped through and the white line flashed blue and both sides of the cave shown with a blue light.

"Come on now," Mordred nodded at him.

Arthur stepped over the line and watched as it flashed red up at him, the walls turning red. He looked back at Mordred, who was giving him a disappointed look.

"Emrys enchanted this cave to read your heart. If you have any cruel intentions toward our people, the walls will turn red, like a warning to the people inside."

"I don't want to hurt any of you." Arthur quickly said. Because really the odds were against him, what with a hundred sorcerers just down the hall.

"Maybe not today." Mordred walked past the line again, walls turning blue and headed towards the center of the camp, where a few benches were surrounding a fire pit.

Mordred sat down and so did Arthur.

"So this is all Emrys?" Arthur gestured around, to the stupid cave and the laughing children.

"He watches over all of us. All the time." Mordred nodded.

"How...I mean..." He groaned, his head falling into his hands, "I don't even know what questions I want to ask, I just have so many."

Mordred laughed, "I know. Our camps used to get raided alot, back during the purge. I wasn't alive yet, clearly, but from what I heard it was awful. When Emrys was old enough, he put that enchantment on the cave so that no one that had any ill intent could reach us. It's our safe haven."

Arthur nodded, a small twinge of guilt twisting in his stomach at the mention of the raid, "Are his parents here? Are they just as powerful?"

Mordred shook his head, "His parents aren't druid. His mother isn't even a sorceress."

"And his father?"

"Dead." Mordred said, and as soon as Arthur frowned he shook his head, "Don't feel bad. Emrys didn't even know him."

"How did he get, you know?" He raised his hand above his head to gesture widely, trying to indicate magic.

"We don't really know. I mean the prophecies never really went into much detail about how Emrys came to be Emrys, but...there's rumors. Some people, especially people from your country, believe his father to be a demon, or worse, the devil himself. That was one of the more interesting ones I've heard."

Arthur watched as a small child ran to his mother, a trail of very peculiar butterflies (they were glowing for fuck's sake) following behind him. Behind her, Emrys was waving his hand, a wide smile across his face.

"He's a good guy though." Mordred said, in a much quieter tone, "He's like an older brother to me."

Arthur didn't say anything.

"You're going to kill him, aren't you?" Mordred finally whispered.

Athur whipped his head around to look at him. Mordred's blue eyes were opened wide, pleading for Arthur's honesty. Arthur looked down and bit his lip.

Morded nodded, "I figured. A Pendragon in a druid camp is never a good sign."

"Answer me something, Mordred," he nodded, "If he knows what I plan to do, why bring me here? Why show me this? Why expose your base to everyone? Doesn't that anger you? He's basically betraying all of you."

The boy was silent for a minute before he spoke, "I don't know why he brought you here, but I have to trust that he knows what he's doing."

Emrys chose that moment to walk over to them, "Getting to know each other?"

Mordred nodded and so did Arthur.

"Oh, Kara was looking for you." Emrys said, pointing over his shoulder.

Emrys sat down where Mordred had been sitting, and stretched out his too-long legs. Arthur glanced over at him, "Why have you brought me here, Emrys? To guilt trip me?"

Emrys held up a hand to his own cheek, looking like a wounded puppy, "I would never!"

Arthur rolled his eyes and looked back at the camp.

"And stop calling me Emrys."

"Okay, _sorcerer_."

"Better, but not great."

"Idiot? That work better? The idiot sorcerer that exposed his own base."

"Ass."

Arthur, for the life of him, had never been called an 'ass'. He was sure people had said it about him behind his back, but never to his face. He turned an astounded look to the sorcerer beside him.

"You can't address me like that."

"Okay, okay. You are an ass, my lord."

"I could take you apart with one blow."

Emrys laughed at that, threw his head back, and it really was an obnoxious sound, like a braying donkey. When he was finished laughing, he turned his head to look at Arthur and smiled.

Arthur suddenly couldn't breathe. Not like Emrys had taken his breath away or anything. It was more like a literal gagging, can't breathe, kind of feeling. One hand flew to his throat, the other reaching for his sword.

Suddenly Emrys looked away and the feeling was gone. Arthur gasped, desperate for air, even if it had only been a few seconds.

"I could take you apart with less than that," Emrys smiled and then stood, offering out his hand, "Also, call me Merlin. No one ever does, but it's my name and I'd like to be called it. Lunch is about to be ready, so come on."

For the third time that day, Arthur muttered (while rubbing his throat), "what the damn hell."

On the second day, Arthur simultaneously met a dragon and had a heart attack.

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	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here's yet another Chapter :) Chapter 5 coming soon! Love you all!**

**REVIEW:))**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or anything associated with Merlin.**

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Day 2

"Morning!"

Arthur cracked an eye open to glare at the very annoying sorcerer at the foot of his bed. He groaned, pulling the blanket up over his shoulders and shutting his eyes again.

"Alright, so today I was thinking we could take a walk."

Yeah right. "Can't we just sleep in and take a walk later?"

"Uh, no. Sorry. Are you ready?"

Arthur threw the blankets down over his legs and sat up, staring up at the man who had the audacity to smile of all things. He fixed him with an exasperated look for good measure, "So you woke me up at dawn to take a walk? Nothing more, just a walk."

The cheeky bastard just smiled and nodded, "Breakfast is upstairs!"

In the most dramatic way he possibly could, he stood up and walked over to the wardrobe, throwing out various outfits until he found the one he wanted: a simple red tunic, leaving it unlaced to expose his chest, and brown trousers.

Once he got upstairs, everyone from the night before was sitting around the table. They all waved at him and he nodded back, pulling up a chair. Lancelot, the closet to him, passed him a plate. Will glared from a few seats away.

"Do you live here?" He decided to ask Lancelot because he had never actually seen Lancelot go to sleep anywhere in this house but he was here more often than Emrys – er, Merlin – was himself, who seemed to have a habit of abandoning his guests every night to go do whatever it was he does.

Lancelot shook his head, "I live over there," he pointed to the west, "But I come over here most of the time. Good company and all."

"Oh you come over here for the food and you know it," Merlin, who seemed to reside permanently over in his little corner, said, "So, Arthur, when is your father going to pay me back? It really does look awful."

Arthur followed his line of vision over to the shattered window on the back window. He looked back at Merlin, whose golden eyes were fixated on him, and shrugged.

Merlin rolled his eyes, winked at Lancelot like they had some kind of inside joke or something equally disturbing, and then nodded towards the door, "Ready?"

Arthur looked down at his half eaten plate and back up at him to show that, no, he was not done, but Merlin was already half out the door. He groaned, grabbing an apple and following him out, Lancelot laughing behind him.

Merlin took off in a seemingly unplanned direction. Arthur paused, "Aren't we taking the horses?"

Merlin glanced over his shoulder, "Nah, they startle easy."

"Okay..." Because apparently that was the best explanation he was going to get. He started down the path Merlin was walking in.

Merlin rambled about something or another the whole way. Arthur wasn't really paying attention, but he did catch a few snippets here and there, something about "the flowers on the side of my house refuse to grow" and "when's your father going to pay for my windows".

Arthur was too busy thinking to really care. He hated to admit it, but the people within the druid camp were having a serious effect on him. They had ate lunch with them yesterday, gathered around the fire pit, and Merlin had laughed and told stories using the flames as dancing pictures and it had all been kind of wonderful. They had been sweet, and after a few minutes of Merlin reassuring them had treated him as a friend. It had felt easy, light-hearted, fun. And now, he had to deal with the guilt over killing their king and possibly taking magic away from the world forever. And it sucked. It really fucking sucked and it was only the second day.

They had arrived upon a break in the woods, a random opening, and Merlin stood dead-center in the middle of it. He turned to Arthur, smiling like sunshine, "Ready?"

"For what, Merlin?" He said after a minute because there was nothing in sight.

Merlin smiled one last time, gold eyes crinkling, and then threw back his head and let out a deep, throaty yell, saying something in a language Arthur didn't understand. When he was done, he snapped his mouth shut and kept his eyes on the sky.

Arthur looked up and then to his right and then to his left. He spun slowly in a full circle looking for whatever it was that Merlin thought he saw. He looked back at Merlin, who was still looking at the sky like it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen, and scrunched up his face in confusion.

They waited for another two minutes. Arthur was counting, because he was bored. Merlin was still looking at the sky, Arthur held up his hands by his sides, making a confused gesture and dropping it when Merlin didn't even blink at him.

Then, just as Arthur was about to give up and walk home, there was a loud_whoosh_ and a giant, and Arthur means humungous, shadow fell over them.

Arthur had all of two seconds to react before a giant dragon landed less than twenty feet from him. He was large, with large, white wings that were almost transparent in the sun folded behind its back. His long, white scaled neck was twisted down to look at Merlin with bright blue eyes that were almost more human than Merlin himself. Not that Arthur had time to notice that. He was too busy focusing on the four large horns protruding from his head, and the teeth, gosh the_ teeth._

He didn't bring his sword, he wishes he would have, so instead he focused on rolling out of the way, closer to the shelter of the woods.

He's about to take off in a sprint, every man for himself, when he hears Merlin laughing behind him.

"What the hell are you laughing about!?" Arthur tried to whisper in a tone that conveyed both 'hey, we need to get out of here. Now' and 'you're an idiot'.

"Nothing. This is Aithusa," He pointed behind him nonchalantly like he was introducing a casual friend not a freaking dragon.

"You have a _dragon_?" He stayed his distance. Domesticated dragon or not, he was not taking his chances, "Of course you have a dragon."

Merlin scrunched up his face in a very ugly way, "What? No. She's not my pet. Have a heart, Arthur. She's a friend of mine."

"You made friends with a dragon." Arthur said after an awkward pause.

He was also ninety percent sure his heart had stopped working about a minute and half ago. Merlin just shrugged, turning back and speaking to the dragon as if they were just having a casual drink together. Arthur shook his head, deciding to take a step forward because how often was it that he got to be this close to a dragon and not die.

Aithusa or whatever turned towards Arthur, cocking her head to the side.

"So you want to go for a ride?"

Arthur turned from where he was studying Aithusa with half interest half fear, "What? No."

"Come on. It'll be fun."

"No, it really won't."

"You're such a spoil sport," Aithusa leaned down to push her nose against Merlin's outstretched hand, "Come on. If you don't, I swear I'll make fun of you for the rest of my life."

"Well luckily for me that's only another week or two."

Aithusa turned at that, her shockingly human eyes narrowing in on him. She growled, opening her mouth in a hiss. Like a damn cat.

Merlin smiled, and tapped on her nose. She bowed low, spreading her wing out so it made something of a ramp, Merlin walking up it like it was an everyday occurrence. He perched himself on her back, in between two of the many spikes that ran down her back, and compared to her, he looked like a damn flea.

"Alright, then I'll be back later. Have fun being boring," Merlin said, gripping one of the horns and Aithusa prepared to take off.

"Wait!" Arthur shouted before he even knew what the hell he was doing. Merlin stared at him expectantly and so did the damn dragon, "Fuck it."

And he walked straight up that damn wing and plopped down in front of the spike Merlin was behind. He turned over his shoulder and muttered, "I swear to God, if I die…"

He didn't even to get finish his thought because suddenly Aithusa pushed off the ground, her powerful wings pushing them farther and farther up. Arthur's stomach was in his throat as she pushed forward, ducking her head to cut through the air.

It was like euphoria.

The wind stung a little, due to the speed, causing him to tear up but he didn't much mind because this was incredible. The ground stretched out below them, wide and open and large, all visible to Arthur. Arthur clung to the spike as she folded her wings in and dove down, skimming along the water, flying just above it, close enough that Arthur could have hung down and touched the water himself.

He jumped as he heard a yell from behind him, twisting to see Merlin, both hands spread wide like an eagle and yelling at the top of his lungs.

Arthur watched him in that moment. The way his gold eyes were spread wide, his grin even wider, and the way he looked like this was what he lived for, these simple moments of pure freedom.

Aithusa leveled out at some point, staying above the tree line and slowing to a speed that didn't sting Arthur's eyes. Arthur just watched the ground pass below them, over all the land he had never ventured over. Aithusa twisted her neck to look at Arthur and he swore he saw her grin.

She landed near a lake, and lowered her wing for Arthur and Merlin to get off.

"So? Worth it, right?" Merlin said as he soon as he got off.

Arthur looked back up at Aithusa, who had taken to curling up in a ball off to the side near the tree line, her huge body taking up half of the opening, "Do you do that a lot?"

"What, fly?" He shrugged, and stopped by the lake. He waved his hand over the sandy part and tendrils of red magic flew from his hand, weaving together and slowly weaving a blanket. When he was done, he plopped down on the blanket, patting the spot next to him. Arthur slowly sat down. Merlin smiled at him and then turned to look at the lake, "I do it as much as I can. Are you hungry?"

Arthur shrugged.

"Give me your hand."

Arthur gave him an indecorous look, "No."

Merlin rolled his eyes and grabbed Arthur's hand. Shockingly, his hands were callused, instead of smooth like Arthur thought a sorcerer's hands would be. Merlin whispered something, and gold tendrils spread out from his fingers toArthur's palm, circulating and slowly, a bundle of grapes started to form inArthur's palm, a deeper purple than Arthur had ever seen. When he was done, Merlin retracted his hand and turned his eyes back to the lake.

"Are these safe to eat?"

"They're not poisonous if that's really what you're asking."

Arthur took a second, but eventually popped one in his mouth. It was better than any grape Arthur had ever had but he was never going to tell Merlin that.

They both watched the lake for a minute, until Arthur cleared his throat, "Why are you doing this?"

Merlin looked at him, tilting his head. He seemed to be reading Arthur's thoughts. He nodded after a second of staring at him and regarded the lake again, "I just want to show you what you're ridding the world of."

Arthur swallowed, "I don't want to kill anyone, you know? It's just something I have to do."

Merlin smiled sadly, "You don't have to do everything your father tells you,Arthur."

Arthur decided that was a battle for a different day, instead he whispered, "No one should be as powerful as you, Merlin. It's a threat to us all."

Merlin stopped for a minute before he said quietly, "I'm not a threat, Arthur. I was never going to hurt you or Camelot. But I do agree with you, that no one should be this powerful."

Arthur's eyes snapped to him, "What?"

"I didn't ask to be this way," he said after a minute, "We can't choose our destiny, you of all people should know that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Merlin says and his voice is different.

Arthur's looking back over the lake when he decides to ask, mostly out of politeness, "Where are you from?"

"Ealdor," And Arthur has heard of it before, the tiny village nestled in Cendred's kingdom, poverty ridden and dying. "My mother raised me there until we were forced to move."

"Is she still alive?"

Merlin nods, and then after a minute, "I haven't seen her in years. We still write, I mean, but I haven't visited her in awhile or anything. I'm scared to."

"Why?"

"One of you will hurt her. You'll use her as leverage against me and it'll work. She's my mother after all," He turns to Arthur and smiles, "That's why I won't tell you where she is. It's better if you don't know."

"She's not a sorceress though?"

Merlin shook his head, "No. My dad was, but not her. So I don't really know where this comes from," he raised his hand and flame spread over his palm. Merlin looked sad for a second before he closed his palm, "How bout you?"

"Neither of my parents were sorcerers," he popped another grape in his mouth.

Merlin rolled his eyes, a short laugh escaping, "Shut up."

"My mother died while giving birth to me. And my father hates you."

"Nice family," Merlin laughs.

Arthur laughs too and then says, "So is this where you take everyone you're trying to charm into liking you?"

Merlin grins, "Well everyone usually likes me right off the bat, so I've only taken a handful of people here."

Arthur smiles, but guilt twists at the bottom of his stomach and he falters. He looks down at his hands, twisting a grape back and forth between his thumb until it bursts, "I am sorry."

Merlin shook his head, looking over the water, raising his hand and allowing the waves to fold to his will. Arthur watched with mild fascination, mild fear. The sorcerer dropped his hand, the waves crashing back into the sea. "Tell me of Camelot."

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything. Everything."

So that's what Arthur does. He tells him of growing up in a land that both persecuted and loved its people, of the creatures he had come across, he told him of Gwen and Morgana, Gaius and Uther. He told him of the battles won and the battles lost, all while Merlin listened, his hand weaving grape vines into Arthur's palm.

That night, after Aithusa took them back, Merlin disappeared towards the woods, taking a horse with him. Arthur spent the remainder of the day reading a book and training with his knights.

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	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Okay, here's like my longest chapter yet, but it's got fluffy parts so hopefully enjoy it. I'm not very good at descriptive writing, but I did try my best, but just in case you need a visual on the things described in here, scroll down to the bottom and I've included visuals. **** Love you guys! Please review!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the storyline. Merlin belongs to BBC, the dances belong to Red Riding Hood.**

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Day 3

Arthur, once again, to his greatest dismay, was woken up at the crack of dawn. But this time, it was by Lancelot

"Morning, sire!" He was the only one out of the four of them that seemed to know how to address a prince. "Emrys took the druid children to the lake. He wants you to join."

"My god, does the man know how to sleep in?" Arthur threw his blankets off and stood up, stretching.

Lancelot shrugged and left the room without responding as everyone in this household seemed to do. Arthur changed, grabbed an apple from upstairs and met Lancelot outside where he stood with two horses saddled.

They rode out to the lake, which actually took a hell of a lot longer when you weren't flying on the back of a supposed-to-be-extinct dragon. Arthur briefly wondered if Merlin had flown, but probably not, since had had children with them. Or maybe they had all flown.

And that's how he got the visual of a large dragon with twenty children and a grinning Merlin shooting through the sky.

They got there a little after midday. It was the same lake Merlin had brought him to the day before. Merlin was standing in the deeper part of the lake, the water licking at his bare lower stomach, as children swam around him, splashing him and laughing, not a care in the world.

Merlin, much to Arthur's surprise, wasn't at all scrawny. His chest and abdominal muscles were well defined, his shoulders broad, long, lean muscle stretching over the length of his body. He wasn't horrible to look at either, but Arthur would never say that out loud or even admit to himself that he thought that.

Merlin turned as a child, no more than four years old, attacked him from behind, putting his back towards Arthur. There, on his left shoulder, was a dragon tattoo, similar to that of the Pendragon Crest, but not quite. The body was longer, the wings stretched higher, and the head was tilt upwards instead of downwards, his mouth stretched open in a frozen scream. The ink itself was black, but the details, like the veins in the wings and the eyes, were gold. There was another tattoo on his inner forearm, a druid symbol, outlined again in gold instead of black.

"Are you going to stop checking me out?"

Arthur jumped, realizing he had been staring and blushed. Merlin beamed at him from across the water. Arthur frowned, and plopped down on the sand closer to the tree line, Lancelot doing the same, "Shut up, Merlin."

The idiot sorcerer smiled and waded up to the shore, the children following. He stopped once he was out of the water, reaching his hands up by his face and cupping them together. He whispered something, unheard from this distance, and then opened his hands.

Two beautiful butterflies, almost exactly like the ones he had seen at the druid camp two days ago, emerged. The children laughed, clapping their hands and proceeding to chase them around the beach.

Merlin came to stand in front of Arthur, blocking the sun, and then shook his hair, water droplets hitting Arthur in the face.

He glared up at him, "Would you stop?"

"Someone's grumpy." Merlin said as he collapsed in the sand next to Arthur, resting his forearms on his knees and letting his hands hang.

One of the butterflies, a beautiful glowing blue and black, floated happily towards Arthur. Arthur held out his hand, just wanting to see what would happen if he touched it. He knew it was nothing but an illusion, but the life-likeness of it was almost perfect.

The butterfly landed on his hand, warm and weightless, no explosion into dust or anything. Arthur's eyes widened, "What…."

Merlin just raised an eyebrow, "It's a butterfly, Arthur. They're a type of bug."

"It's real," He said slowly as the creature continued to rest on his finger, "I mean, it's not an illusion."

"You thought it was an illusion?"

"Merlin, this is a real butterfly."

"Wait! No way! Are you serious?!" He held up his hands to his mouth, his eyes widened in exasperation.

"Stop. I'm being serious. You created this. You created life. You shouldn't be able to do that," he whispered.

Merlin didn't say anything back, just frowned and looked back out at the children.

The butterfly lifted from Arthur's finger and disappeared towards the children. Arthur stared after it, feeling something sink in his chest, "Only God can create and destroy life just from a thought. So tell me, Merlin," he turned his head to make eye contact, "what does that make you?"

Merlin didn't say anything. He seemed to have a habit of ignoring questions and it was really starting to rub Arthur in the wrong way. So instead he turned to Lancelot and said, "Are you a druid?"

Lancelot shook his head, "No. None of us are. Not even Merlin."

"Then how did you come to know him?" He pointed to Merlin. Merlin smiled.

"I saved him from a gryphon."

"_You _saved _him_?" Arthur said slowly, "Isn't he like invincible?"

"Basically, but he was refusing to use any magic at that point."

"I feel like there's a story behind this. And also, just a side note, if you're not a druid, how did you become King of the Druids?" Arthur's full attention was now on the sorcerer who had been doing a wonderful job ignoring them.

Merlin sighed, "My mom sent me to the druids to train me to control my magic. And I went through a period where I was terrified of using my magic."

"Why? It's not like you've killed anyone," Arthur says because he believes it to be true. His eyes aren't that of a warriors and, on top of that, of all the Camelot soldiers sent to kill Merlin, Merlin never killed a single one of them.

Merlin's eyes shifted to rest on him and Arthur suddenly fell quiet, because Merlin may not have the eyes of a warrior, but he did have the eyes of someone that has killed, "I never meant to kill anyone," he was quick to say, "I was seven. The only thing I had ever used magic for was to make the trees dance or to grow crops. I had never hurt anyone. Then they attacked my home. Bounty hunters of some sort, come to collect their prize. I was sleeping when they came and they grabbed me and my mother. They blindfolded us and gagged us and carried us into the woods. My mother had been knocked out. When she came to, she started screaming at them to let me go, not to hurt me and one of the guys hit her. I remember hearing it and being so angry and just thinking, 'don't touch my mother'. And then it was silent and when my mother took my blindfold off, they were all dead. I had burnt them to a crisp. My mother was crying. I was terrified.

"We didn't go back to Ealdor. She was scared they would find me. So we kept moving, never staying anywhere for longer than a week. My mother kept telling me not to use my magic unless absolutely necessary. We found a nice village to the west and stayed there. Everything was perfect, but then there was a huge draught when I was thirteen. I thought I could help. I mean, the kids were starving, what else was I supposed to do? I thought I was doing something good when I conjured the rain, but someone saw me. And that night, a group of villagers came for me with spears. Some of them wanted to kill me, but most of them just wanted me gone. They called me "devil-child" and a demon. I was so scared, I just backed into a corner and begged them not to hurt me. One of them raised his spear, and I think he was just meaning to knock me out, not kill me, but I didn't know and I closed my eyes and screamed. And then, when I opened my eyes, they were all dead. Their hearts had just stopped in their chest. My mom was staring at me, just kind of in this mixture of fear and awe."

Arthur was staring down at his folded hands, feeling something akin to fear spread in his gut. He remembered when he had killed his first man at the age of sixteen. He remembers the guilt, the fear, the nausea that came with knowing he had taken a man's life from him. Thirteen, though, thirteen was just too young.

"I hated myself," Merlin continued, "I thought I was evil. My mom was scared for me, so she sent me to live with the druids so I could learn to control my magic, but she told me not to tell them I was born with it, because they might fear me. I refused their lessons for three years. I didn't want anything to do with magic. That's when I met Lancelot, he saved me from an attack. He convinced me my magic could be used to help others and encouraged me to learn. So I did. They trained me to the best ability they could. But within weeks, my magic surpassed theirs. That's when they started to suspect something of me. When they learned I had been born with this ability, they started to call me "Emrys". They told me my birth had been prophesied since the beginning of time and that I was going to unite the lands of Albion. They said there was nothing else they could teach me, that I was to be more powerful than all of them combined. So I buried myself in books and taught myself everything I could know about the old religion. And like Lancelot said, I realized I could use my magic for good. So I stayed and protected the druids and ta-da, now we're here."

"The _you know_," Arthur pointed to his own blue eyes, trying to get the point across, "didn't give it away?"

Merlin laughed. And so did Lancelot. And Arthur wondered what was so damn funny. Merlin shook his head, "My eyes aren't actually gold."

"They're pretty damn gold." Arthur argued.

"Yes, but they're not actually gold. I have blue eyes, like you." Merlin said and Arthur's eyebrow rose. Merlin laughed, "Here."

He turned to face Arthur completely, crossing his legs and looked dead straight at him. Arthur just tilted his head to watch, staying facing forward. Lancelot didn't even bother to glance over.

There was no change at first, Merlin's eyes stayed gold. And then Merlin closed them, muttering something under his breath, and when he opened them, the gold was circling in his eyes. Slowly, the gold deepened to a dark orange, and for a second, he looked the part of a demon, but then the orange swirled away, revealing a deep blue. It kept swirling, diminishing by the second, and it was absolutely fascinating. Then, Merlin blinked, and his eyes were suddenly a deep, ocean blue, wide and beautiful and incredibly alien looking on Merlin.

Arthur blinked at him.

Merlin smiled, and it made his eyes crinkle, the blue in his eyes shining. And somehow, it looked both right and wrong at the same time. He looked….human for once.

Then Merlin blinked again, muttered again, and when he opened his eyes, they were the swirling mess of gold, orange and blue all over again.

"What are you chanting?" Arthur whispered.

"A spell. The reason my eyes are gold is because of the protection spell on that camp. It's constantly using my magic, so my eyes stay this color. I just reapplied the spell."

"You can cast a spell from this far away?"

"Yes." Merlin said and then he turned to face forward again.

None of them said anything. Arthur was too busy thinking and he felt guilty, but not for the same reason he had in the past. He was guilty because he was thinking in a way his father would reprimand him for. He didn't think of these people as evil anymore and he didn't think they deserved to die at all.

"So today, I was gonna take you with me on a field trip."

"A field trip?"

"Well, we're having a festival here tonight, at that clearing Aithusa took us to. So I thought I'd take this as an opportunity to teach the children some simple spells."

Arthur looked over the giggling children, raising an eyebrow, "They can't be older than six."

"It's not too early to learn. Come on, you can help me teach them."

"I don't know magic, Merlin. That's a stupid thing to suggest."

"You can help them pronounce the spells. We're gonna work on the fire last. Right now, we're gonna use a tracking spell to help us find food. The older boys are gonna find the deer. I figure you can help them since killing seems to be right up your alley."

Arthur glared.

"Okay, so the older boys won't have near as much trouble pronouncing the spells as the younger ones will. But you see him over there," Merlin pointed to the dark-haired boy that was currently tackling another boy into the sand, "He has a speech disability. So you'll have to work with him. His name is Blaez. He's smarter than half of them, just can't talk well."

"Okay," Arthur said slowly and watched as Blaez sat up, as if he knew they were talking about him, and looked over at him.

"The spell is simple, 'Lære us".

"Lære us?"

"It means guide us, when it's literally translated. It'll expose a path of a deer."

"That must come in handy," Arthur whispered, because he couldn't say it out loud, not when he was the Prince of Camelot.

Merlin nodded and then stood up, "Hey, guys! Let's gather around."

The children dropped whatever they were doing, making them the most well-disciplined children Arthur had ever seen, and came to stand in front of Merlin. All together, there were about ten of them. They all carried the similar druid tattoo, but in various places. Some of them had them on their arms, others on their legs, and a few of the boys even had them on their chest.

"Alright, so we're gonna split into three groups. You four," he pointed to the youngest four of the group, "are gonna help Lancelot collect firewood, okay? And you three are going to come with me to get fruit and decorations," he then pointed to the oldest three, one of which was Blaez, "you three are going with Arthur to hunt."

The three oldest cheered, clapping, while Merlin rolled his eyes, "Alright, hunters! What spell are we gonna use?"

A girl in the front shot her hand up.

Merlin smiled and pointed to her, "Alana."

She couldn't be much older than seven, but she eagerly clapped her hands together and shouted out, "Laght us!"

"Nope, try again!"

A boy, not far from her age, raised his hand.

"Andrev," Merlin called on him.

"Lære us!"

Merlin clapped his hands approvingly and nodded, "Very good. Does everyone have that?"

The children nodded eagerly and Merlin smiled warmly at them. Something in Arthur's chest lightened and he couldn't help the smile that graced his features. These children clearly loved Merlin and Merlin loved each and every one of them. He was surprised if Uther even knew the name of one of the street children.

Merlin walked over to Arthur, shrugging into his shirt as he did so. He smiled at him and Arthur smiled back. Merlin stopped a few feet from him, the three children Arthur was supposed to take were gathering their supplies on the beach, "Okay, so you know which one is Blaez. The tall one, that's Masek. He's a bit aloof, tends to wander off, so keep an eye on him. And that last one there is Nevena," he pointed to the blonde girl who was currently weaving her hair into a braid, "she's the oldest. She may be a girl, but don't underestimate her. Her father is actually the lead hunter of the druid camp, he taught her from an early age. She's got the heart of a lion and never misses."

Arthur nodded. This he could deal with. Merlin made a move to head towards his children when Arthur grabbed his arm. Merlin turned, raising an eyebrow, and Arthur just mumbled, "Thank you. For including me."

Merlin beamed at him and then took off towards the children.

Arthur was left with three very expectant looking children staring up at him, but he didn't mind. He was used to working with children. Back in Camelot, he trained the children of his fellow knights to handle a sword and while he would never admit to it, he actually enjoyed it far more than working with the adults.

He led them off into the woods and stopped at the first dense area. He turned to Blaez and told him to say the spell. It felt weird, encouraging magic, but at the same time, it felt easy, natural, as if magic was what weaved this world together. Arthur pushed that down into the list of things he would sort out later and helped Blaez fit his tongue around the odd words.

They ended up following the golden path that was laid out for them and the rest of it was easy after that. Merlin was right, they were all skilled hunters in the making. Nevena was quiet, light on her feet, and could line up a shot without any instruction from Arthur.

They killed a few rabbits and one deer. Arthur showed them how to tie and wrap them so the blood wouldn't stain their clothes. He swung the wrapped deer over his shoulder and headed back towards the beach, the sun was starting to set anyway.

Nevena held his hand the whole way there, while the boys shoved at each other behind them. She looked up at him once they were almost to the beach, her blue eyes squinting in the afternoon sun, "You were really good."

Arthur peered down at her and gave her an easy smile, "I could say the same about you."

She giggled and turned his eyes back to the path ahead, "My father says he'll make a good hunter out of me."

"I don't doubt it for a second."

"You remind me of my father," She said simply.

Arthur readjusted the deer on his shoulder, "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"He's brave like you."

"I'm brave, huh?"

"Yeah. You're friends with the druids, aren't you?"

Arthur glanced back down at her and raised an eyebrow, "What does that have to do with being brave?"

She shrugged, "Well, I know who you are. You're the Prince of Camelot. People in Camelot don't like magic. And I don't know, I think it's brave that you're friends with druids when you're from Camelot."

"Not everyone in Camelot hates magic," he said without thinking and immediately felt himself tense. Of course he couldn't be talking about himself. No, he feared magic. Hated its power and its users. He _had to_.

"Camelot killed my mother."

It was like a punch to the gut. Arthur felt his breath leave him and he stumbled a bit. They had just broken the treeline, emerging on the beach once again. Arthur yanked his hand away, a bit rudely, as if her hand was a branding iron.

There were more people on the beach now. There were a few families, even older adults. He spotted Lancelot and an older teenage boy carrying a few logs on their shoulders over to the beach and setting them down in a square formation for makeshift benches. In the center of the square was a giant unlit fire pit, which a few of the children were still throwing random sticks into. Off to the side, a few of the men had carried a wooden table over and the women were now assorting different fruit and bowls onto it.

He spotted Merlin sitting off to the side, with a bucket of water between his legs and washing fruit.

He dropped the deer and rabbits off to the side, away from everyone, and sat down the log. He felt sick. The poor girl couldn't be older than fourteen and she had already lost her mother. And for what? Maybe her mother had just been trying to make the crops grow in the midst of a draught. Maybe her mother hadn't done anything at all. Maybe someone had just spotted the tattoo.

He grabbed a dagger that he had been carrying during hunting and started skinning the deer, making sure to have his back to the group of people on the beach so they wouldn't be able to see.

When it was finally dark and the deer was roasting over the fire Merlin had created, the druids, who now numbered over forty, gathered around the fire, sitting on the logs, grasping wooden bowls full of meat and fruit, and talking intimately under the stars.

Arthur ate quietly, sitting on the sand with his back pressed up against the log. He hadn't ate, hadn't felt like it. He just sat and watched everyone. Someone had brought out a flute, and another had a brought a drum. Couples were dancing beside the fire, laughing and giggling without a care in the world. Another group was sitting off to the left, playing some kind of game with dice. Leon and his knights were chatting with a few of the druid men. Merlin, along with Mordred, had chanted spells into the palms of their hands and when they opened them, light orbs had flown into the air, differing colors of blue and red and green.

It was easy to see how much the druid people loved their 'king'. Everyone was always lining up to talk to him and Merlin didn't seem to mind. He took the time to speak to every single on of them, shifting from group to group, taking time to play games with the children, gossip with the women and race on the beach with the men.

At one point, he even joined in on the dance, pressing his palm flat against a girl's, his other hand on the small of his back, as they circled each other. They switched, opposite palms and circling the opposite way now. He then grabbed her hand, brought it over the top of his head and slowly slid his hand down her arm as she did the same. She bent towards him, as he leaned back, and then he leaned forward and she was leaning back.

Arthur watched it curiously. He had never seen the dance before, but everyone seemed to be doing it, so it must have been a popular dance among them.

As the night went on, people were drunker, the dancing became the main activity, but it was definitely sloppier and less choreographed. It was a lot of dancing in a circle around the fire, arms linked with one another, until you had to let go to spin in a quick small twirl, and then grabbing hands once again to move in the bigger circle around the fire.

Arthur was perfectly content with watching, but Merlin had made it his life's works to make him miserable. He came bouncing over, reaching out a hand to Arthur's.

"Dance with us," his face was split into a bright, earth shattering smile, his eyes orange in the firelight, and his cheekbones casting shadows over his face.

"I don't really dance."

"You're a prince. Isn't it in like your job description?" Arthur shook his head, but Merlin frowned, though the humor from the alcohol was still in his eyes, "Come on, please?"

"Fine," He took Merlin's hand, Merlin joyously pulling him to his feet and yanking him towards the group.

He grabbed Arthur's hand and together, they danced around the flames. They were on their third circle, when Merlin released his hand to spin in a circle, Arthur doing the same, and Arthur couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous Merlin looked. Merlin just smiled back and they continued to dance, Arthur joining in on the laughter and cheer.

Later, when Merlin was well worn out as were most of the dancers, he sat down on a log, Arthur beside him. Stretching his hand out towards the sky, he whispered a few words and the light orbs that had been uselessly bobbing around the festival lifted into the sky at once, ramming into each other and bursting into a mixture of lights.

The people clapped, raising their glasses and cheering. Merlin did it a few more times, the colorful bursts fanning over the sky above them and casting lights down on them.

Arthur looked over to Merlin, watching as the blue and red lights danced off his face. Merlin was watching the sky, a small smile on his face, and he was beautiful. He was absolutely breathtaking and Arthur's breath hitched in his throat and he turned away, back to the sky to watch the colors even if the true beauty was beside him.

What the _hell_ was he going to do?

* * *

**TA DA! Can you guys please review? I'd love you forever. **

**Visuals: Alright, so it won't let me type in a link. Stupid. So go to youtube and type in Conwy Castle Medieval Dance and that's the second dance used. The first dance is called the "Wolf Dance" from Red Riding Hood. So, check them both out since I'm crap at descriptions. **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Review :)**

Day 4

For once, Merlin didn't wake up Arthur at the ass-crack of dawn and Arthur wasn't sure if he was happy or not about that. But he did get to sleep in till just before noon so he counted that as a blessing.

Merlin was sitting at the breakfast table though, his feet up on the table, frighteningly close to the food, and his head leaned back. His eyes were closed and he looked to be asleep, but Arthur knew better. As soon as he sat down, quietly as possible, Merlin's eyes opened and he beamed at him.

"Ready?"

"Are you ever gonna let me eat? Like I would like to finish breakfast just once."

Merlin laughed, "Okay, fine. I have to meet Lancelot to give him some eggs anyway. He forgot them yesterday. Will you be ready when I get back?"

"Yes, I suppose. What are we doing today?"

"You'll see," And then he was walking out the door, and as soon as he out of the doorway, he was just gone, disappeared into thin air.

Arthur proceeded to stare at the doorway for a solid minute before he shrugged and dug in. Leon came up at some point and sat down by him, the other knight doing the same. They both grabbed plates and started to eat, but Leon was clearly upset about something.

"What is it?" Arthur said after a minute of Leon pushing his food around his plate and dissecting his food.

"I shouldn't say," He whispered before looking up bashfully at his prince. Arthur nodded for him to continue. Leon sighed before he muttered quickly, "These aren't bad people, sire. They don't deserve to die."

Arthur dropped the piece of bread he was holding onto his table, feeling suddenly sick, "I know."

"Sire-"

"I don't have a choice, Leon. You know that. I'm sorry," He pushed back his chair, stood and immediately walked out of the door. He just needed air. Desperately.

So apparently the sorcerers were having just as much as an effect on his knights as they were on him. A part of him, the Prince of Camelot in him, wanted to believe that they were under some sort of enchantment and it wouldn't completely surprise him but-

"Hey. You okay?" Merlin was standing in front of him, less than a foot away.

Arthur jumped away from him, his heart in his throat, "Jesus!"

Merlin snickered, "Sorry."

"Yeah, you seem so torn up."

"Do you have your sword?"

Arthur shook his head, confused, "No, I left it downstairs. You said no weapons."

"Go get it. And change into your chainmail. Then meet me out back, okay?" And then he was walking away.

He was just gonna pretend he knew what this kid was talking about. He jogged downstairs, grabbing his chainmail and pulling it over his shoulders. One of the knights came and helped him to strap on the rest of his armor. He grabbed his sword and jogged back up the stairs.

He didn't really know how to get to the backyard from inside the house. He didn't see a door. So trying to save time, he decided to climb out the shattered window. Merlin glanced up as he stuck a leg out and his face deadpanned, "You still owe me for that."

"Shut up." Arthur muttered, finally pulling the other leg through and dropping heavily on the ground.

Merlin still didn't look amused, but some of the anger left at that.

Behind Merlin's house was literally just a flat plane of grass, similar to the one at the Druid camp, even carrying the similar scorch marks. Merlin was standing on the far right side and he pointed for Arthur to stand at the far left, facing him.

As soon as Arthur did, Merlin held out a hand, yelled something, and a fireball shot from his palm straight for Arthur. Arthur rolled away, barely missing it. He stood up, furious, "What the hell!? You could have killed me!"

"I was testing you!"

"For what!?"

Merlin sighed, dropped his hand, and took a step forward. Arthur held his sword up, hell no. Merlin backed up again, "I want you to know how to defeat a sorcerer."

So apparently this kid was incredibly daft.

"Why would you want me to know that?"

"Because it's valuable knowledge," yup, he was stupid. Incredibly so, "Now do you want me to teach you or not?"

"I think you're an idiot, but yeah, sure."

Merlin smiled. "Okay, we'll work on elemental spells first. I would teach you how to deflect a stunning spell, but unfortunately, unless you are magic, there's not much you can do to defend yourself from those."

"Stunning spells?"

"That's the most common spell people use. It's the easiest to learn. It's just literally shoving you backwards. The only thing you can do is try to land on your side, not your back or head. But again, not much you can do much about that. So elemental magic. That include fire, earth, water, or air. Most powerful one is fire. Fortunately, fire can't retain its initial heat the whole time its traveling through the air. That being said, you can use your sword to deflect it," He yanked his jacket off, that stupid brown one again, and threw it down to the side. Underneath, he was wearing a black, sleeveless tunic. On the inside of his forearm was the druid symbol, but it was outlined in gold instead of completely black.

He thrusts his hands down, and suddenly flames flared from his palms, covering the bottom of his hands and licking all the way up to his elbows. Arthur's hair stood on end, because it was incredibly terrifying. The flames travelled up his arms in the same way it did the pyre, quickly, powerfully, and fully enveloping whatever was inside it. Merlin's arm wasn't even visible beneath the flames. It stopped at his elbows, but sparks rose to his shoulders. He held out his arm, straight towards Arthur and a flame shot from it.

Arthur held up his sword, instead of ducking like always. The flame hit it, splitting in half and blowing off to each side of Arthur's face. He smiled, ecstatic. But it was short lived because Merlin shot another. Arthur deflected it as well.

"Okay, now, hold this one, but duck soon because the sword will heat up eventually," Before Arthur even had a chance to ask what the hell he was talking about, Merlin shot a solid tunnel of fire at Arthur.

Arthur held his sword, the blast splitting in two once again and blowing past him. He held it there, but the tunnel wasn't letting up and Merlin was right, his sword was starting to become too hot. He dropped first, to his knees, then brought his sword down and rolled away.

"Good!" Merlin smiled, and the flames dissipated from his arm. "Okay, now water magic can be used in two forms, water or ice. Water isn't nearly that dangerous, in fact it's rarely even used because you have to be near a body of water to use it. Ice is different though. It can be used to slow your opponent down. It doesn't freeze them over completely, well it can, but there are very few people who can do that. Most people are lucky if they can freeze a hand or a leg."

"I swear to God, Merlin, if you make me an ice cube."

Merlin laughed, "Anyway, it's best if you just try and jump out of the way of these. You can try and deflect it, but I personally would just avoid it," and with that he thrust his hand down again and a whitish blue flame appeared in the same way the first one had.

They went through each spell. Merlin taught him different ways to deflect and defend himself. And the spells were numerous.

"Okay, the best way to defeat a sorcerer is to restrain their hands. Most of them are powerless without their hands," he pointed to himself, "I'm not. But most. So make sure to grab their wrists and aim them away from you. They may use a stunning spell but if you hold on, you'll pull them with you so they may not try it."

A few hours after noon, Merlin decided Arthur needed a break. And by that, he means he forced Merlin to give him a break. He sat against the house, drinking a goblet of water, sweating, and counting up his various injuries for the day. Three burns, two on his arm, and one on his thigh. Two places he was sure were frostbitten. A few bruises here and there where Merlin had stretched out an arm and the ground had literally shot up in front of Arthur in the form of a tiny cliff and hit Arthur directly in the shin.

The only thing that didn't take a lot of practice was the hand-on-hand combat. Merlin was fast, but he wasn't stronger than Arthur. Not without magic.

And now, on top of the stress that had become Arthur's life, they had gathered a small audience. Leon, Lancelot, Sir Vidor, Sir Geraint, Will, and lastly, a man and woman Arthur had never seen before now gathered by the edge of the house, clapping their hands at random moments and cheering the two on.

Merlin, since he was an asshole, then decided they were going to do a final battle. In front of everyone.

"How is that even fair? If you're the most powerful sorcerer to ever live I don't even stand a chance."

Merlin just shrugged, "I'll go easy on you."

He scowled. Stupid sorcerer. Flipping his sword over in his wrist in a way that was familiar to him, he rolled his shoulders back and took his stance.

Merlin clenched both fists and one arm shot up with the red flames, the other with the bluish white. So fire and ice. How cliché.

Merlin flung out his left hand, the one with the fire, and a fireball hurled at Arthur. He took a defensive stance, holding his sword in front of his, deflecting the flame. Immediately, Merlin shot out a stream of ice and Arthur dodged.

Merlin advanced, hurling fire and ice balls at him. Arthur rolled away easily, deflecting when necessary. Merlin smiled, standing back and clapping, "Good! Now come at me."

Arthur rolled his eyes. He took off in a light jog, dodging Merlin's numerous spells. He took one swing at Merlin, as soon as he was close enough, but Merlin ducked, slamming his fist into the ground as he went down.

The ground shook, throwing Arthur off balance. He stumbled backwards, Merlin standing, wobbly himself, and shot two fire balls at Arthur. Arthur deflected them, just barely, some of the sparks hitting the side of his face and burning him. Merlin surged forward, ducking his head and Arthur flew backwards, sliding against the ground, knocking the wind out of himself.

"Do you want to give up?" Merlin laughed.

Arthur shook his head. Standing up shakily, he took a minute to recover, "You're holding back."

Merlin's eyes narrowed, "Want me to amp it up a little?"

He nodded and Merlin smiled, slamming his fist into the ground again. The ground shook once again, but Arthur was smarter this time and went down into a crouch to stabilize himself. The sky opened above them, drenching them in rain. Arthur looked around, noticing the rain was only hitting them, not the people watching on the sideline. They were holding onto the side of the house though so they must feel some of the earthquake.

Arthur pushed himself off the ground and sprinted towards Merlin, bringing his sword over the top of his head and down into a vertical slash. Merlin held out a hand, and the sword froze in his hand and then went flying out of it. He threw a punch, Merlin dodging and throwing a fireball that in turn, Arthur dodged.

For all the power Merlin had, Arthur couldn't help that notice Merlin wasn't strong with hands-on fighting. It's not like Arthur could blame him either. Merlin had relied on magic his whole life to defend himself and probably hadn't even allowed someone to come this close to him before, there was no reason to learn physical fighting.

Merlin was still throwing spells, Arthur barely dodging half of them. Finally, he managed to grab one of Merlin's wrist and yank it behind his back. He kneed Merlin in the back of knees and Merlin went down. He bent down, low to whisper in Merlin's ear, "Do you want to give up?"

Merlin, who was breathing heavily and sweating, laughed breathlessly, "Congratulations, you beat a sorcerer at an amateur level."

"What?"

Suddenly Merlin's wrist was hot, far too hot to touch. It felt like touching something straight out of the blacksmith's fire. He yanked his hands away, and Merlin was on his feet again, turning to face him. While Arthur was still initially shocked by the blisters on his hand, within seconds, Merlin's hand was on his shoulder and suddenly Arthur's knees felt weak. Arthur sunk down, feeling powerless. Merlin was above him, holding out a hand and suddenly his hands were restrained behind his back by invisible ties.

His golden eyes watched the prince and narrowed, "You won't beat me, Arthur."

He stared up at him dumbfounded.

There was clapping off to his right and he looked over to see the whole damn group of people clapping. Suddenly his hands were free and his power returned to him. He stood up shakily, Merlin was already walking towards the group.

But he was not about to go down that easily, "Wait!"

Merlin turned back to him.

"I challenge you to a duel, just swords, no magic."

Lancelot laughed, "Teach him some moves first at least."

An hour later, after a quick spar to judge skill and then a few lessons after, Arthur thanked the gods that Merlin was a sorcerer, because he would have been a truly awful soldier.

Merlin didn't wander off that night like usual. He stayed and ate with them, but didn't talk much. Arthur met Freya and Gwaine, some of Merlin's close friends. Gwaine was a drunk and incredibly inappropriate, but slightly charming. Freya was beautiful, sweet, if a little shy, and also seemed to be the only sorcerer there besides Merlin. She sat by Merlin for most of the night and he smiled at her and there was something more there. Something that made something in Arthur twist uncomfortably. Freya looked at him once, and he looked down, too ashamed to meet her eyes.

Arthur, mostly, was beginning to truly hate the stupid gold and red tendrils that were swimming around the room. They didn't seem to have a sense of direction and often bumped into him, which felt like someone was tickling him and sent him into a whole fit of annoyed.

"Can you make those stop?"

Merlin, who wasn't paying attention to Arthur, suddenly snapped back, "What?"

"The stupid light things, make them stop."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because they have a calming effect."

"Calming effect, my ass. They're aggravating me," He said as another one passed directly in front of his food.

"That's because you're a prat."

Arthur deadpanned and let the topic drop, no matter how much he hated the stupid things.

Merlin, escorted by Freya, eventually wandered off to his room, which Arthur finally figured out was the first room when you came down the stairs. Eventually, after a great amount of drinking, especially on Merlin's friend's part, people started to wander off to bed.

Arthur had been laying in bed for all of five minutes before it clicked in his head, "Son of a bitch."

He flung his blankets off him, storming down the hallway straight to Merlin's rooms. He didn't even bothering knocking, just flung it open.

Merlin's rooms were simple. He had a large bed in the center of the room with nightstands on either side. A small dining table was set up close to the door and an elaborate rug was spread beneath it. Two chairs were pulled up next to a fireplace against the farthest wall. The stupid magic tendrils were swirling around the entire ceiling, creating a constant-moving pattern. A druid symbol was painted on the wall beside the fireplace.

Freya and Merlin were sitting on the two chairs by the fireplace. Freya was pulled back in her seat, one hand on her face, another in Merlin's hand as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, to talk to her. They both looked up when Arthur barged in.

"Freya, leave us." Merlin said after a few seconds.

Freya stood, brushing her hand across her face to wipe off a few tears. She hurried past Arthur, not bothering to hide her glare.

"Arthur," Merlin started.

"You don't intend to come back to Camelot with us. You lied to me," Arthur shut him up before he could speak, "Why else would you teach me how to defeat a sorcerer? You know that by killing you, magic is erased from the world. So the only thing I can figure is that you don't even plan on coming back with me."

"Even if that was true, Arthur, why would I teach you to defeat a sorcerer?"

"I haven't figured that out yet. All I know is that you don't plan on magic being erased from this world," He took a step forward. Merlin remained in his chair, "You lied to me!"

Merlin sighed, standing up, "I'm coming back to Camelot with you, you ass."

Arthur was about to argue, but he just sighed, "How can I trust you?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. But I am coming back. I'm just worried that maybe your theory is wrong. If you kill me and magic isn't erased, you're going to have hundreds of sorcerers coming after you. I want you to be able to defend yourself."

Arthur stopped and watched as Merlin approached him, stopping a few feet away from him. Arthur sighed, the golden eyes watching his every move, "Why do you care if they attack me? I am your killer after all."

"Because I don't believe you're a bad person. You will be a great king one day, the greatest the land has ever seen. I believe that, and if I can't be around to protect you, I hope you can protect yourself."

"You would protect me?"

Merlin held up a hand to Arthur's face and he flinched away. Merlin shushed him, "You have a few burn marks," he pressed a warm hand against his face, causing Arthur to wince, and whispered a few words. The pain of his touch lightened until he couldn't even feel it.

When he was done, he nodded towards the seat where Freya had been sitting, "Do you want some wine? I'll heal the rest of your wounds too."

Arthur shrugged and Merlin poured them two glasses. He handed one to Arthur and sank down in the chair next to him. Arthur sighed, "I'm sorry to barge in with Freya and all."

"You didn't interrupt anything," Merlin took a sip.

"She was crying. Was that because of me?"

Merlin nodded without breaking his stare from the fireplace.

"She loves you." He said quietly, "How long have you two been together?"

Merlin finally tore his gaze away to look at Arthur. His elbows were on his knees, the goblet dangling in his hand while Arthur leaned back in his chair, relaxed. Merlin took a sip and then turned back to the fire, "We're not."

"It seemed like it."

Merlin shrugged, "We were. For awhile actually. But I was scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Losing her," he said quietly, "The people that try and hunt me down, they'll look for any weakness I have. I find the less attachments I have the better," his eyes closed for a second like he was stopping something, "She's leaving tonight. She only came to say goodbye."

Arthur was silent for a minute, the guilt crippling him, "It must be lonely."

Merlin nodded and a dry laugh escaped his throat, "It's incredibly lonely. Will, Lance, they refuse to leave me. Gwaine too. They're incredible friends, but I worry for them everyday."

"Why am I the only one you allowed to find you?" Arthur muttered because the guilt was eating at him.

Merlin didn't answer. Instead he stood up, taking the goblet from Arthur's hands and setting them to the side, "Take your shirt off."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm gonna heal you."

"Oh, no, that's fine. I'm used to bruises. Thank you though."

Merlin rolled his hands and reached for the hem himself. Arthur backed off, reaching for the hem himself, "Okay, fine. Damn, have you learned to accept 'no' yet?"

Merlin ignored him, instead stepping far too close to Arthur than he was comfortable with. His hand was on his lower stomach, warm and callused and comforting. His head was inclined, his breath cold on Arthur's shoulder and chest as he chanted spells.

Up close (and far away), Merlin wasn't bad looking. He was taller than Arthur, but smaller, more lean-cut muscles from dragon-riding and swimming and everything in between. His smile was magnetic, everyone stopped to watch it, and he filled the room with a certain light that you couldn't ignore, something that made you feel alive. His eyes, him, all of it was magic.

Merlin's hands moved up to his chest, and he chanted a similar spell. He glanced up to check Arthur and stopped when he noticed Arthur studying him.

Arthur just watched him, he didn't know what to say, didn't know why he felt so guilty or why the thought of Merlin dying made him sick. But here, now, Merlin was beautiful. He had always been beautiful. Before he could even talk himself out of it, he was leaning forward and pressing his lips against Merlin's.

Merlin's lips were chapped, and he was tense against him, but he didn't pull away. Nor did he kiss back.

Arthur pulled away, "I'm sorry."

Merlin's eyes were different, there was a flicker of blue that disappeared as quickly as it appeared, but he nodded. And then Arthur was leaning forward again, apology forgotten, his hand on the back of Merlin's neck.

This time, Merlin pressed back, his hand on Arthur's hips and his magic humming between them. Arthur could feel it surrounding his body, pressing the two of them closer together. It wasn't like kissing Gwen, it wasn't sweet and chaste, a soft touch of lips. No, it was hungry, consuming, and lit a fire in Arthur so powerful that he could feel it in every single of his limbs. He opened his eyes, curious as to what the thrumming sound near him was and gasped, Merlin's tongue slipping in.

The two of them were in the midst of a tornado of gold tendrils, swirling around them tightly and blowing the hair out of Arthur's face. Near the ceiling, small balls of light floated, creating their own little galaxy. It was beautiful and it was heartbreaking.

Merlin was the first to pull back. He stepped back, his eyes that strange mixture of blue and gold, "You should go."

Arthur stopped, watched as the lights disappeared and the tendrils resumed their normal floating around. "Yeah."

He didn't turn around when he walked out, and Merlin didn't follow him. He went to his room in a zombie state, dropping onto his bed and throwing his hands over his eyes. He heard one of his knights ask him if he was okay, but he didn't answer.

Why had his father sent him? Why had Emrys allowed him to come? And why did Arthur have to go and fuck everything up by kissing him? Arthur groaned, because how the hell was he supposed to take Emrys to his death now?

The next day, to Arthur's greatest horror, Merlin was gone.

Lancelot reassured him he was coming back that night, but somehow, Arthur wished he wouldn't. Arthur wished he would stay away and leave Arthur no choice but to return to Camelot empty-handed.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Here's a long chapter for you guys **** Happy early thanksgiving! And please review, I love when you guys review **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin and I hate it.**

* * *

_Day 5_

Arthur had been at breakfast, patiently waiting for Merlin to pop in and tell him they were going on some ridiculous walk, when Lancelot had walked in and sat down at the table with the rest of them.

"Hey," he said nonchalantly as ever.

Arthur waited all of five minutes for some kind of explanation before he got fed up and asked probably more enthusiastically than normal, "Where's Merlin?" At Lancelot's questioning eyebrow, "I mean, I've just been able to sleep in and eat a full meal without being interrupted so I'm a little worried."

"He's meditating," Lance said like it was a normal thing to do, when Arthur was pretty sure only the monks did that, "He'll be back tonight."

Arthur nodded and dropped his head back down to stare at his plate.

"Will and I were actually gonna ask if you wanted to come to the village with us to get supplies, then we can go to the Druid camp.

Arthur figured he might as well, he had nothing else to do, so he nodded.

* * *

Two hours later, Arthur found himself standing in the middle of the village, surrounded by bustling citizens, all crowded into a too-small area. A child bumped into Arthur's leg, not paying attention to where he was going while playing tag and with a hurried, "Sorry, sir!" took off running again. A chicken clucked near his boot.

Arthur never thought he'd miss Merlin's ridiculous walks or fiestas or whatever it was they had been doing all week, but he had just been proved wrong.

"Are you gonna stand there looking sour all day? You're scaring away the children."

Arthur turned towards the voice, greeted by the sight of Will, two large bags swung over his shoulders. Lancelot was still talking to a middle-aged man about bread, but the gold on the table said that he was buying enough bread for a small army. My god.

"How are you not fat?' He said as a way of conversation.

Will arched an eyebrow, "What? Are you making fun of me? Cause I swe-"

"One, don't threaten me, that's treason. Two, why are you guys getting so much food? Can't Merlin just magic it all up anyway?"

Will rolled his eyes, setting the bags down and leaning against the side of the building that Arthur had just now noticed they were standing next to, "Yes, he can. But even with all of his magic, the food he," he snapped his fingers in place of the words, "up is not all that good."

"Okay, still doesn't answer why you bought so much. Do you only come to the market like once every blood moon? That's enough to last you for months."

"Well, we stock up for Merlin too. He can't really come himself."

Arthur raised his eyebrow in confusion. Will took one look at him and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Your father may rule only Camelot, but he's poisoned all of Albion. Merlin can't come to the village or really anywhere but that house and the camp."

"Why…" He was going to ignore the horrible comment about his father.

"The eyes. They take one look at him and either run in fear or make an attempt on his life."

Arthur frowned.

"Why do you think you're here? Someone saw him in town and ran straight to Camelot to turn him in."

"The druids come here all the time though."

"People don't mind the druids, they're a peaceful people. Merlin on the other hand…he's Emrys, King of the Sorcerers, Immortal. People fear him."

"Wait," he couldn't have heard that correctly. There's no way he could have, "Immortal?"

"You really don't know anything, do you? Yes, he's immortal. If you would take the time to pick up a book, you would know that Emrys literally means immortal. Which is why I'm very confused as to why he's playing this charade."

He felt like he should be angry. Merlin couldn't even die, yet here he was making Arthur look like a fool and making him believe he could kill him if he wished. Merlin had lied to him, but all Arthur could feel was relief. Merlin would survive.

Immediately he felt sick. Because why, why on earth would that thought be reassuring? It shouldn't be. He should be sickened, angered, determined to find a way to kill him.

Will scrunched his forehead, tilting his head, "No. No way. Why do you like happy?"

"Where does Merlin meditate?" He rushed out.

Lancelot dropped his own sack next to them, smiling at them in that ruggedly handsome way, "The Crystal Cave. It's in the Druid camp. We're heading there now."

Arthur nodded, grabbed one of Will's bags because despite what Will thinks he's not an asshole. The three of them drop the bags off at Merlin's house and take three horses out towards the Druid camp.

* * *

Will and Lancelot are talking about something relatively important as they trot in front of him, but Arthur isn't listening. He's too busy trying to sort his feelings into little boxes of 'Don't Feel' and 'Maybe okay, but probably not'.

A druid child runs out and grabs Arthur's reins. Arthur nods at him and then heads straight towards the cave without even looking back at Lance and Will.

He's crossed over the threshold, heading down the incline of the cave when he notices the walls are blue. He stops, turns back around to look at the mouth of the cave, where the line is drawn. Will and Lance are both standing at the mouth, stopped, shocked.

Arthur knows what it means, he remembers what Mordred had told him, and that's why he needs to talk to Merlin like now. He heads down, stops the first druid he sees and asks, "Where's the Crystal thing?"

She raises an eyebrow, "Crystal thing?"

"Yes, Merlin mediates in there. Where is it?"

"Mer-Emrys. Emrys meditates in there."

"Oh," she pointed to the left, where a tunnel led into a seemingly dark nothing.

But he nods, thanks her and takes off down the tunnel. He presses his hand against the wall, using it guide him. He still can't see anything and he wonders if Lancelot and Will are following them, but hopes they aren't. He's about five minutes in when he notices a blue light at the end. He picks up his pace until he basically stumbles into the room.

A druid or magical person would describe it has something of pure magic, something of fairy tails, of bright white-blue lights and high ceilings and whispering promises. But Arthur isn't any of those things, so to him it's just a cave with a bunch of blue rocks in it and Merlin looks kinda ridiculous sitting in the middle of it.

He doesn't know the rules of meditation, but he figures if they were important, someone would have told him so he just yells out, "Merlin!"

Immediately all the crystals in the room, which if Arthur had taken the time to look closer would have seen were fogged over, suddenly showed an image of Merlin's gold eyes flashing open. And honestly, it was overwhelming, having a hundred thousand pairs of the same eyes staring at you, and a bit creepy.

But then the crystals were fogged over again and one-set of very-pissed off eyes was glaring at him.

"Hey. I need to talk to you," He said as he picked his way down the rocky slope.

Merlin had the decency to look annoyed.

He finally got to the bottom, where it evened out and then proceeded to weave his way around the blue rocks. Merlin glared up at him. Arthur curled his lip, "Don't look annoyed with me. I should be annoyed with you."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt _your _alone time." Merlin sneered out.

"Shut up. You've been interrupting it all week. Can I sit?" he pointed to the spot in front of Merlin, but Merlin just glared, "I'll take your silence as a yes."

"Why are you here? How did you even get in here? Is my spell not working?"

"That's another problem I'd like to address and we can get to that, but first, when were you going to tell me you were immortal?" He says because all of his life problems had really started with that revelation.

"It's not important."

"It kind of is to someone that's only assignment is to kill you."

Merlin rolled his eyes, looking even more annoyed than he had a right to be, "I can still die."

"Immortal means live forever, Merlin. I'm not stupid."

"I could argue with that," Arthur opens his mouth to retort, but Merlin shakes his head, "I can still die, I think. I just won't age. I mean that's just my theory. I've never exactly tried to off myself so I can't be sure."

"A theory," he repeated, "What am I supposed to do with a theory? And so you seriously won't grow old? Like ever?"

"How did you get down here?" Merlin finally asked, his voice short, angered.

"What's wrong with you?" Arthur suddenly whispered because he was almost 99.9% sure that this was his fault and he felt horrible for it, "Are you really that mad that I'm down here?"

He tried not to sound hurt, but Merlin just squinted his eyes, "No, I'm just concerned my shields aren't working."

Arthur stared at him for a moment longer, before he looked around the room, at the crystals, and motions at them, "What is this place?"

Merlin followed his hands and looked up at the ceiling, "It's the birthplace of magic."

Arthur looked around, _Ew. Merlin was born here. And oh St. Peter, I'm freaking sitting in it._

Merlin rolled his eyes, a small smile pulling at his lips, "Yes, Arthur, all sorcerers are birthed here. All the pregnant woman travel all this way to give birth on the very ground you're sitting on. Because we're sorcerers and that's our idea of normal."

Arthur glared at him, the sarcasm was practically dripping from Merlin's lips, "Are you reading my mind? You're like a dog with a bone. I never said you could do it."

He laughed, throwing his head back and he still sounded like a braying donkey, but it was less obnoxious now. Arthur smiled, feeling a warm flush spread through his chest.

"So you come here to meditate?"

"More or less. The crystals serve a purpose."

"Other than being colorful rocks?"

"I can see the future in them."

He said it so nonchalantly, as if seeing the future was a normal and practical thing to do. Arthur's head whipped around, his eyebrows shooting into his forehead, "What?"

Merlin's forehead scrunched forward and he nodded, "That's why I was here. After our…last night," he shrugged, "I needed to see if things had changed."

Arthur swallowed, his palms sweaty, he knew what that meant. If Merlin had seen the future change, he saw Arthur letting Merlin go. As much relief as that brought him, he was also fucking terrified. He would have to answer to his father, to all of Camelot, why he had let Emrys slip through his fingers, "Did it?"

"Not for the better," Merlin whispered, but he was still being short, still upset.

Arthur stared at him for a second, watched the way his eyes shifted to the left, back to Arthur's lips and then away again. So he had been right about it being his fault, "So this is this about last night?"

His voice came out a whisper and Merlin didn't even turn to look at him, "You shouldn't have done that."

"Yes, I'm aware of that."

"Then why did you do it?"

Arthur was silent, pulling his knees up and resting an elbow on one knee, his head in his hand, "Do you really wanna know?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

"I don't know why I did it. That's the honest truth. I don't even know why I'm here or what the hell I'm going to do when I get back to Camelot. Nothing, absolutely _nothing_, has made sense since I came here and it's your fault."

Merlin looked back at him, silent.

"I kissed Gwen too. She's a servant back in Camelot. And I knew it was wrong, that I shouldn't, but I still did it."

"I don't know what that has to do with me."

"It doesn't," Arthur whispered, "I'm just thinking out loud. Bear with me."

Merlin nodded and snapped his mouth shut.

There was a moment of silence where Arthur knew what he wanted to say, but couldn't. Couldn't work it past his throat, couldn't fit his tongue around the syllables. He groaned, frustrated, "Fuck. Can't you read my mind?"

"I won't, unless you want me to."

"I want you to," Because that was much simpler to say than what he meant.

Merlin cocked his head, his gold eyes set on Arthur's blue, boring through his skull straight to the heart of him. His eyes were flickering back and forth quickly as if he was literally reading text, maybe he was, and then he blinked, pulled back. He stared at Arthur, a hint of a smile on his lips, "You don't want to see me dead."

Arthur shook his head, because he still couldn't say it. He was the Prince of Camelot and there were some things he wasn't allowed to feel. But as long as it was there, locked away in his head, never voiced, only visible to Merlin, then it was safe.

"No."

He thought he had been the one who had spoken, but it was Merlin. Merlin, who was apparently still reading his thoughts and had answered the question Arthur had let cross his mind, _Do you regret kissing me._

Merlin again repeated, "No," but this time he added, "I dread the consequences."

"It won't happen again," Arthur says, because that's acceptable for him to say. It's the right thing to say, but he doesn't want to mean it. He wants to want to but he can't.

"I think that's for the best," Merlin whispered, but there's something else in his eyes, something he can't say. So the feeling is mutual then.

_I'm sorry, I'm sorry I don't mean it_ because he couldn't say it.

Merlin was silent and then he sighed, pulling his legs up in a similar position as Arthur, "Have you ever done that with any other g-"

"No," because heaven forbid Merlin finish that damn question, "I'm the Prince of Camelot, Merlin, that's a dumb question."

"We're a mess," Merlin says quietly, bowing his head, "We're a fucking mess."

"Yeah, I would say we are," and he feels so fucking suffocated by everything, by the weight of his father's expectations, by the power in Merlin's eyes, by the heat in his stomach when Merlin smiles.

Merlin watches him and Arthur knows he's reading his mind, but he doesn't care enough to make him stop. And then despite everything just said, Merlin leans forward, his hand curving around Arthur's and he's smiling that fucking brilliant smile, the one that takes Arthur's breath away. Arthur squeezes his hand. He wants to believe that he could stay here forever, with magic swirling around him, making him feel more alive than he ever thought possible, with Merlin's eyes and smile light, unworried, like he had been on the beach.

"Hey," and he brushes his thumb over the back of Arthur's hand, running it over a scar where a bandit's knife had sliced through it when he was fifteen, "breathe. In a week, everything will be back to normal."

Arthur's eyes snapped up from where had been watching Merlin's thumb. He wrenched his hand away, "Are you serious?!"

"Arthur, I'm trying to reassure you."

"With your death!? Isn't that what started this whole conversation?" _I thought you knew I didn't want to see you dead._

He makes up his mind then because Merlin is looking at him in the way Gwen never did, in the way no one ever did.

But then the crystals are swirling red and angry and people are screaming outside the entrance. Merlin is on his feet, panic in his eyes, "No. No!"

Arthur is already standing too, the knight in him on full alert, "What is it?"

"We're under attack!"

"What!?"

"Come with me," he grabs Arthur's hand, interlocks their fingers and yanks them towards the opening of the tunnel. He's sprinting basically, Arthur in tow, pushing past the panicking druids, who are all rushing down the black tunnel.

He's reached the main section of the underground cave and grabs a woman's arm, pulling her against him. She places a hand on his chest and he lets go of Arthur's hand to grab both of her upper arms. Arthur stands behind his shoulder, to the woman's side, concerned.

She's crying and looks up at him frantically.

"What's going on!?" He pulls her out of the way as another druid runs past them.

She shakes her head, tears threatening to spill over, "They're here."

"Who's here?"

She points shakily to Arthur, Merlin's head twisting around to look at him. Arthur stands there, shocked, not really having an answer.

"His men. The knights. They're slaughtering all of us. Then they tried to enter the cave and –"

Arthur can't breathe. He can't look away from the bitter anger, the hatred, in the druid's eyes. He's drowning in it. Arthur looks up to Merlin's eyes, see the way they narrow, he's searching. Searching to see if Arthur had betrayed him, had alluded him in some way. He makes sure his thoughts are clear enough, that he had never and would never do that. Merlin looks away, back at the girl, and Arthur tries to ignore the biting guilt, pushing it down and stepping into a position he's comfortable with, as a knight, as a commander, "Get everyone into the back of the cave, put all the torches out, put the women and children in the back. Merlin, I need a sword."

"Arthur, they're from Camelot," Merlin says as the girl hurries off to do what Arthur asked, "They're your people."

"And they're killing yours," Arthur says before pushing in front of Merlin. He's ready to fight them. He doesn't care if they are of a kind. Murder is murder. If his mind hadn't been made up before, it's made up now. They were brutal, ruthless killers, and the druid people didn't deserve this.

He needs a sword but he knows he won't find one among the druids, so his next option is to try and reason with them. If they won't do that then at least he has the world's legendary sorcerer on his side.

"Arthur, stop!"

Arthur had just reached the mouth of the cave, the soldiers already turning to look at them, swords braced until they realize whom they're facing. Their faces are shocked, as if they had believed him to be dead.

"Stop," he says over his shoulder, "Stay in the cave."

He's turned back to the knights. They're dressed in the usual red and chainmail, but the red is starting to look more like blood. A druid man is lying on the ground behind one of the knights, a bloody hand reaching towards Arthur, or maybe Merlin.

Merlin rushes past Arthur, ignoring his orders and drops to the side of the man. He takes the man's hand in his, his other hand on the man's chest and begins to chant. One of the knights hears it and turns rapidly, driving his sword down towards Merlin' back.

Arthur's heart stops, dies in his chest. He's running before he can even process what's happening, he can feel a scream tear from his throat and he's only a few feet away but he knows he won't be quick enough.

The sword freezes an inch from Merlin's back. The soldier looks confused, frustrated, at why his sword won't drive forward.

Arthur shoves the knight away from the man and Merlin, coming to stand between the two sides. He holds up one hand, eyes thunderous, and points to the knights, "What the hell are you doing here?!"

One of the braver knights steps forward, "The king thinks you and your knights are dead, sire. He believes Emrys to have killed you. We were sent to raid this camp and rid this land of these barbarians."

"You have killed innocent men," his voice is dripping with venom.

"We're sorry, sire. But you've been gone a week. We are glad, thrilled even, to see you alive. The whole of Camelot will be relieved."

Another knight, one of the younger ones, steps forward, his eyes far too alight for someone that has just committed murder against women and children, "Is Emrys dead, sire? Have you defeated him?"

Merlin, because he's a strange man and doesn't under how to negotiate, takes that as his cue to stand up and face the knights. Arthur can hear him behind him, can see the knights take a step back, swords raised and eyes fearful.

He scowls. Stupid Merlin.

He hears one knight whisper to the other, "It's the golden eyed man! It's Emrys."

"I have made plans with your prince to return to Camelot tonight. He was kept here this week under my command. I am just a man and wanted a chance to spend a final week with the people I love."

"You are an animal!" One of the knights screams.

Arthur feels something hot and angry rush down his arm, but he feels Merlin's hand on his arm and he can breathe again.

The knights see the touch, however, and one instantly rushes forward, another yelling, "How dare you touch our prince! Arrest him!"

Arthur moves to step in front of them, to defend Merlin, but he finds himself frozen in his spot, feet literally rooted to the ground. He turns over his shoulder to see Merlin staring at him, silently, shaking his head.

Then there are two knights pushing Merlin's shoulders down and Merlin sinks to his knees. One of the knights presses Merlin's face into the dirt, the sole of his boot pressed to the back of his head, while the other knight binds his hands behind his back.

They lift him up, by the hair and he can hear Merlin hiss in pain, but he still does not fight and Arthur is still powerless to fight for him.

Their eyes connect and Merlin again shakes his head. The knight tears off a section of his cape and blindfolds him.

Then, out of nowhere, Arthur can feel a nagging presence in the back of his head. It feels like a whisper and Arthur strains to hear it.

_Don't fight with them, Arthur. It's better this way. It's meant to happen this way. They won't stop until they have me in their dungeons and you back on Camelot's throne. This is the only way, I won't have more blood shed on my account. I need to keep my people safe. Please, please don't fight them. Please trust me. _

And then the voice is gone, leaving Arthur empty and hollow, but he can move again. But even then, he doesn't, not until they are hauling Merlin towards the meadow, where he can see their horses and a few other knights and hunting dogs are waiting.

He looks back towards the cave, to see a few druids huddled in the mouth of it, watching him. Most of them are crying, some of them embracing each other as they watch their leader dragged away. A few of them look murderous, but none of them are charging forward, and then Arthur sees it.

There's a slight shimmering surrounding the cave. It almost looks like an invisible shield, but Arthur realizes what it is. It's keeping them from leaving the cave, from stopping the soldiers. Merlin is holding everyone back that would possibly try and save him.

He has no idea why unless Merlin is really stupid enough to try and be the hero.

One of the men is cradling a woman against his chest, angry tears running down his face. He raises his eyes to meet Arthur's and Arthur freezes. It's Mordred and he's holding the too pale, too still body of Kara, and his eyes are murderous.

Arthur can feel that nagging sensation in that back of his mind again, but this time the whispers are cold, stone, venomous.

_I shall never forgive this. And I will never forget. _

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